


Almost Anything

by mamawolf0714



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 10:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15387138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamawolf0714/pseuds/mamawolf0714
Summary: Alistair the king remembers the person who gave him everything good in life while holding the future in his arms.





	Almost Anything

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on AO3. Comments, suggestions, etc are appreciated. Thank you for reading!

“Who is she, Papa?” A tiny girl pointed to the smallest portrait in her father’s study. Alianne looked at it with wide, brown eyes and smiled at the painted lady’s smile.

“Hmmm? She, who?” Alistair glanced up from the pile of documents he needed to sign. He stopped and the soft grin that had begun to take shape fell. “She was… a very good friend. The best friend I ever had, really.” He pushed himself up front the chair and went to kneel beside his daughter. 

“Really?” The crown princess of Ferelden placed a sticky hand on her father’s arm and glanced between her father and the painting. “She’s pretty.” 

“Yes, she was.” Alistair swallowed and grimaced at the old memories of that smile. 

He remembered the way she smiled at his stupid jokes. 

He remembered her laugh and the way her hair moved. 

He could still remember the way she looked at him with those eyes before dashing towards the Archdemon to make the killing blow. 

Those eyes.

“She was,” Alistair nodded and picked his daughter up, “and you know something, Pup?” He sat in his chair and propped her upon his aching knees. Traipsing around the country in full armor during war had caught up to him in recent years. But age will do that to anyone, even a king. 

“What?” Alianne reached for the top drawer of his desk and started to slide it open. But before she could get the latch, her father stopped the grubby hand and pulled it towards his face. 

“You remind me of her.” Maker help the poor soul that ends up wrapped around these little fingers, he thought as he kissed them. “And you know what else?” 

His daughter giggled and nuzzled into the fur at his collar. “What else?” That dazzling smile was on her face again. 

“I gave you her name. Because she was the strongest,” he kissed top of her hair, “toughest,” and placed another kiss on her forehead, “best woman I knew.” Finally, he punctuated the statement by tickling Alianne’s ribs until she giggled in delight. “And I like to think all the best things about me, that I gave to you? I learned from her.” 

Alianne squirmed and giggled in her father’s grasp until he finally stopped. Instead of trying to get away, she cuddled deeper into his shirt. “Where is she now?” 

Alistair couldn’t stop the way his heart clenched. It had been nearly two decades, but the phantom pain was still there. Although the ache had become a sweet warmth in his chest and throat, like the Antivan brandy that occasionally arrived from an ‘unknown source’. While his wife thought the stuff too harsh, Alistair thought it tasted like memories. 

“She saved us all.” 

Alianne was the Warden. 

Alistair picked up his daughter and swung her around in a wild dance, setting off another fit of giggles. Little shoes barely missed the expensive junk that littered the surfaces around the room. But neither father nor daughter cared as they spun around to their own tune. “Because of her we have ponies, and sweets, and nugs, and cheese!” 

Alianne whooped in delight and urged her papa to go faster and swing her higher. He could only comply until his back smarted and the world spun faster than they had. With a breathless chuckle and little grace, they collapsed onto a couch together. 

Alistair looked down at those brown eyes and pushed her dark hair back. He wondered if this little girl was the daughter they could have had. How different life would be if she had lived. What kind of queen and mother could she have been? 

But he shook off the thought because he had learned long ago not to think too hard about the maybes and what ifs. There was only the present and future, with just enough room to regard the past as a platform from which all things came. “And I have you. You’re the greatest gift she ever gave me.” 

And she’s the reason you’re here. I would give anything to have her back. 

Almost anything. 

“C’mon, pup.” Alistair picked up his daughter and headed for the door. “Let’s go find a snack and go for our walk. There’s a new litter of mabari in the stable. Maker only knows how long we have before your nanny is going to swoop in and grab you.” 

“Swooping is bad?” Alianne took hold of her father’s fancy clothes and crumpled it in her tiny hands. 

He spared one final glance at the beautiful woman in the picture. The Warden was his past. He held the future in his arms. “Yes. Swooping is very, very bad.”


End file.
